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Within my Home Sweet Om chronicles, this is the third of a series on mundane magic- see my second here and my first here. This post contains lots of links to products, but I am not affiliated with any of them and don’t make any money if you click the links (I wish I did!). I actually got most of this gear used. If you’ve read much on my blog lately, you know that I have a huge crush on winter. I have camped outside (like actually outside, not inside a building that is outside) in -20 with snow piled all around me AND LOVED IT. I’ve slept inside the bag of

Feature artwork by Mora Thornton Within my Home Sweet Om chronicles, this is the second of a focus on mundane magic- see my first here. Let’s just say that everything looks a bit muddy lately… Juni has decided that sleep is for the weak, so Eric and I are up 7,000 times a night trying to help her find rest. And in that process, our own rest has become a thing of the past. I literally feel like I’m emerging from a swamp each morning. But this is parenthood. Stiff upper lip and all that. I have built a barrier to negativity. But it requires so much energy to keep

Mundane Magic- A Home Sweet Om Chronicle I woke up in 2018 with a word standing at the edge of my bed, staring me in the face. “Get up!” it said, hands on hips. “Ugh. Juniper was up every hour last night, go away. I don’t want any words this morning. Unless you brought me coffee. Did you bring me coffee?” The word frowned and sat on my bedside table, where my coffee should be. “UP!” It repeated. “Fine. But before I hear what you have to say, I am getting coffee.” When I returned, the word had gone, leaving only a thin film of sparkly air that I would

To my tiny wild thing, I feel lately that you’re on a boat at sea… you are going to dance with the wild things and you can’t hear me calling anymore. You are still getting used to wearing that little crown … independence doesn’t quite fit you yet and you’re trying to find your way. You’re 3 years old next week, and rush furiously between wanting to be a baby in my arms again and longing to be a grown up. You pushed your friend down the slide. I wasn’t there but I can only imagine the look of sadness and hurt in her eyes. You likely laughed because that’s

Hello, Village… so, as I walked over to my computer to start this post, these are the things I passed that could have used my attention: Overflowing laundry hamper (OK, if we’re being honest, it’s actually hamperS, plural) Dog, looking at me hopefully for a walk (don’t worry, he’ll get one… later) 926 pieces of Lego needing to be picked up My camera’s SD card, waiting to be downloaded and organized into folder Related to previous, Juniper’s first year photo book, waiting to be started Dog hair cyclones, building up the more I don’t vacuum My yoga mat, which will wait patiently for at least a few minutes before I

Happy December, Village! No? It’s not December yet? Sure feels like it! The world is rushing towards the festive month like it’s our job. Seasonal commercials have started, and everyone always looks like they are having the time of their lives, without a care in the world (they’re so rested looking! And so much home baking! House like an interior decor magazine! And how do everyone’s outfits always match?!). But even the best of us feels like the grinch at times through the month of December. At its best, it is a time of beauty, family, and community. At its worst, it can be a time of immense pain and

Hello, Village… I’m still here… mostly 🙂 I’ve been thinking lately about screensavers. You know, the thing that comes onto your computer screen when you leave it on for too long to preserve battery life but still want to have its functions quickly accessible when needed. Mine are those standard Mac-issue, vaguely psychedelic squiggly lines that I imagine have entranced many a teenager while listening to Pink Floyd. In addition to being entertainment to a certain subgroup of the population, screensavers literally save your screen from burning up. I kinda feel like I need this for my life right now. I find myself calculating the least amount of energy I

In a world ruled by orange-haired dragons, gangs of bigoted ogres with torches, and hate-filled trolls on the internet, we are all desperate for our homes to be islands of peace. But where do we start? What do we do? How do we keep the world out? But I have to remind myself to hold up: It’s not about keeping the world out. It’s about making your home more powerful than the hate that surrounds it. This is part of my goal in writing this series on nurturing a peaceful family culture. You might remember from part 1 that when I talk about “peace”, it’s not about a lack of

Village, I felt like I was extricating myself from a bog this morning… heavy, reluctant. I’m tired. Of course, there’s the “I’m a parent” tired (in that I have seen every hour on the clock for the last few nights). But also the “I’m a grownup and adulting is bloody hard” tired. I think maybe “weary” is the word I’m looking for. Juniper wants nothing of naps that involve being put down lately. At least I know she will always sleep while pressed against my body. This morning, I committed to cleaning with her in a wrap on my back. But as I sat down in what we have affectionately

“Good girl”. I hear Harmony Slater praising another yogi’s efforts in a difficult posture from across the room. Yes, I know, I’m supposed to focus on my own practice, but I chuckle to myself when I hear her say it. From others, it might sound condescending. But there’s something about the positive energy in the room, our teacher’s simultaneous desire for us to push ourselves and also be where we’re at, and the encouraging tone of her voice that from her, it just doesn’t. And maybe it’s because it’s also the voice of a parent; I’m certain that like every other mum out there, Harmony has both challenged and praised